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Tuesday, September 05, 2017

It's the first Tuesday in September, and village children are off to their first day at school, walked all the way there (or just to the bus stop) by proud parents, big sisters and brothers and family pets. I have known many of the kids since they traveled about in prams, and here they are going off to school. Dear me...

The youngsters wear jackets in confetti colors, carry backpacks and lunch boxes in pink, turquoise and lime green, tote pint-sized umbrellas patterned in flowers or bunnies or polka dots. They bloom like peonies in the street, and watching from the windows, I feel like doing a little blooming too.

Only a short distance away, other brightly arrayed offspring have hatched out in village hedgerows, and they are strengthening their wings for the long journey south to begin in a week or so—every single Monarch butterfly is a stained glass jewel, a wild, vivid and breathtaking wonder.

There are vibrant hues everywhere I look in early September, and they are a treat for these old eyes. It doesn't matter whether the colors are on Virginia creepers, coneflowers or tiny raincoats - they invite me to kick up my heels and dance.

Temps here in the 50's early this morning, climbing into the 60's now. Our first real taste of Fall - yum. :) Rejuvenating, invigorating - lights the spark within again. Not quite dancing yet, but I can feel it coming. :)

Wow! What beautiful vivid "summer" color in your Monarch photo! Just stunning! You know I'm going to keep teasing you about summer, don't you? :) It really feels like it here today...high 80's with a hazy smoke filled sky. The sun is just a big orange globe casting a strange copper light on everything! We need RAIN bad! Living in western Washington state...I thought I'd never say that! Enjoy those beautiful Monarchs while they're still here and all those darling colorful children on their way to school!

From the Work

through this life we pass,here for only seventeensyllables, three lines

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Wise Words

These pages, too, are nothing other than talking leaves—their insights stirred by the winds, their vitality reliant on periodic sunlight and on cool dark water seeping up from within the ground. Step into their shade. Listen close. Something other than the human mind is at play here.

David Abram, Becoming Animal

When we deliberately leave the safety of the shore of our lives, we surrender to a mystery beyond our intent.